


Love Will Come Through

by littledarlinwrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Feels, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledarlinwrites/pseuds/littledarlinwrites
Summary: Bucky is haunted by dreams of a past lover, but who is she?





	Love Will Come Through

_A whimper was released from the body writhing beneath the soldier. His body was covered in sweat and trails of pain erupted down his back. The pleasurable pain caused a growl to slip past his lips, lips that were teasing a hardened nipple moments before._

Just as Bucky was about to see the face of the woman that haunted his dreams at night his eye snapped opened and an aggravated groan fell uncaringly from his lips. The vivid memory of the smell of sex and lilacs pungent in the air of his dream world lingers in his mind. Shuri had warned him that lost memories may come back to him, most commonly in the form of dreams. Usually his dreams that were filled with whimpers or moans were coming from his dying victims, but more often lately they were of a mystery woman that smelled like lilacs, lips that tasted like peppermint, and skin softer than velvet. Unmarred like his, a complete contrast of himself if he were being honest. At first, these dreams would send him into a panic. More than once he woke up immediately running for the bathroom to empty the acidic contents of his stomach and the mere possibility that he had not only killed people, but robbed someone of their own bodily autonomy.

It wasn’t until Bucky had these dreams four or five times that he realized that, whoever the woman was, had wanted these intimate moments with him. That not once did she fight him, always pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. This had made him question if he had simply imagined this woman and these moments, that they were just dreams and not memories, but then his broken mind fought back with a vengeance by making them so vivid it was as if he were living them for the very first time.

As the dreams progressed, Bucky became more frustrated. Frustrated that he never saw the woman’s face, frustrated that he couldn’t remember anything identifiable, and most annoyingly, sexually frustrated. Every once and awhile, he would get a reprieve. Maybe a dream about holding the mystery woman in his arms while she drew lazy patterns with the tips of her fingers on his chest while a thunderstorm raged outside. Or maybe even a movie night on the couch that almost seemed just a bit small for two so she was practically laying on top of him, not that he seemed to mind. Or one dream that led him to discover his love and knack for cooking. Though he never let anyone else know. This was one of the few things he had kept to himself. In that dream he was in the kitchen cooking latkes where he had the perfect view of the living room and the cozy, worn chair where the woman sat reading a book with her bare legs draped over the arm.

The dreams gave Bucky more pieces of himself than they ever did of the mystery woman. Eventually he tried finding a way to be in control of his dreams so he could see the woman's face, but he never seemed to quite get a hold of it, usually just causing himself to wake up rather than look at the woman's face. For a while the frustratingly pleasant dreams stopped and the tormenting nightmares of all the lives lost and blood on his hands took its place. That was until Bucky took up residence at the Avengers tower.

After Shuri had finished his deprogramming in Wakanda and had made sure that nothing would trigger him to go into Winter Soldier mode Steve had begun suggesting that he move in the tower. At first Bucky declined, he knew Tony hadn’t forgiven him for what he had done to his parents, he hadn’t even forgiven himself for it. However, after a couple of months, Steve made one of his visits to his little cottage in the luscious green fields where he tended to his goats. This time he wasn’t alone though. The man that owned the Avengers tower followed behind him before walking ahead of him and straight to Bucky.

His muscles tensed, but the look on Steve’s face showed there wasn’t any danger to be feared, that this encounter wasn’t going to go down like their last. Tony made his way over to Bucky, looking down at his shoes once he was in front of him before looking around and then finally making eye contact with him. Bucky held back the apology on his lips noticing the Tony had a look on his face that he wanted to say something.

“Ya know, growing up I always felt as if I was living in the vast shadow that was Captain America. My dad’s greatest achievement. I remember him telling me how he advanced Steve Rogers, why he did it, but the story that intrigued me when I was a kid was the daring rescue attempt he helped Captain America on. Cap’ jumping out of an airplane while the enemy reigned fire upon the aircraft to save a friend. He didn’t even know if his best friend was still alive, and if he wasn’t then his rescue mission would become a mission of taking down every HYDRA bastard he encountered until he cut off the head of the snake. My dad told the story of duty, of bravery, of brotherhood, of love. My dad didn’t speak much of HYDRA, but he always got this far-off look in his eyes whenever he got too close to the subject. That was the story I thought of when Rogers asked me about you moving into the tower. My knee-jerk reaction was a firm ‘hell no,’ but then I remembered that story. I did some digging you know. The HYDRA we know today, versus the one that existed then. What caused us to end up where we are today. I get why Rogers protected you from me. Honestly, I never truly dealt with their death. And I may have placed that on you. It was easier that way, but it wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Just like what happened to them. Just- just like what happened to you. Rogers, T’challa, and Shuri have all assured me that you aren’t that guy anymore. Shuri proved that you weren’t. And, I believe them. So, if you want a room at the tower, it’s yours.” Tony said. At first, Bucky wasn’t sure how to process everything, and he was sure the look on his face showed that in spades. He didn’t manage to stutter something out until Tony nearly walked away.

“Do you,” Bucky took a deep breath as Tony halted his movements, “do you think you could ever forgive me? For what happened to them?” Bile rose in Bucky stomach in waves.

“No.” Tony said, deadpanned expression before breaking into a soft smile. “I forgive him though, the soldier. You aren’t the one to blame, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know you, the guy Cap’ rescued. The one I grew up hearing about. Without you Rogers would have just been some poster boy, and who knows, maybe my dad would have been into pharmaceuticals and who knows where we would all be now.”

The chuckle of Tony’s laughter dying off in Bucky’s memory of that fateful day. Not even two weeks later did Bucky have his new arm secured, his belongings moved to the tower, and his nightmares vanishing. Bucky remembers the day he met you. The newest Avenger that had arrived during his recovery with Shuri. Your specialties more useful at the tower than anywhere else you had explained. The scent of something floral floating around you stirring something within him, but at the same time there was something _off_ about that scent that Bucky couldn’t place. The worst part he didn’t know why you stirred these familiar feelings, or why there was something off. He didn’t remember you, but sometimes he felt that tug in his mind that he would feel when his brain was trying to recall something it lost to HYDRA.

Bucky gravitated toward you and he had no idea why, every possible explanation that he conjured up never seemed to encompass the whole picture. Was it your gentle nature? Your fierce loyalty? Your never-ending patience? He remembers the first time he came back from a mission. You were waiting with the others that had stayed back and you were wringing your hands nervously in front of you. The look of concern in your eyes increasing tenfold when you saw Bucky limping his way off the quinjet. Bucky stopped in front of you wrapping his arms around you, breathing in the lavender smell that clung to your skin and the herbal scent of your hair. The scents calming him down instantly. Bucky was home. You had dragged him off to the medbay, but stopped at his room instead since it was closer and he was nearly falling asleep on his feet. You sat him down on his bed before walking to his en suite bathroom to get his first aid kit. Bucky remembers your gentle touch the most from that day. Fingertips ghosting along his injuries, your eyes warm and filled with care, every movement filled with a gentleness that could make Bucky cry.

When Bucky realized that he wasn’t going to fall back asleep he looked over at the alarm clock on his nightstand. At the sight of the time, half past three in the morning, Bucky released another frustrated groan. Shuri and Steve both told him that his mind would piece back the memories in time, that eventually he would figure out who the woman was, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating that every night for the last six months the dreams only teased him. Some days, on his particularly bad ones, Bucky’s mind would cruelly remind him that he doesn’t even know if the woman is still alive, worse yet, what if she had met a painful end by his own hands. What if his mind was just protecting him from this and only showing the good?

Bucky gets out of his messy bed, the sheets pulling off of one corner from his jostling, tossing, and turning. Bucky made his way to the kitchen hoping a cup of tea would soothe him enough to go back to sleep. As soon as he opened his bedroom door he was assaulted with the smell of latkes. Bucky’s mind spun for a moment and he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he had fallen back to sleep, to some modified dream where he’d finally see the woman's face. It wasn’t until he saw you at the stove top that he was convinced that he was actually awake. Bucky walked up behind you, the smell of fried potatoes filling him with a sense of comfort. His flesh hand had barely grazed the small of your back when you jumped nearly a foot in the air.

“Shit- Bucky, you scared the hell out of me!” You spoke with your hand against your chest, willing your heart rate to slow down as you realized you were in no actual danger.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d make some tea.” Bucky said sheepishly.

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize you were here, I thought everyone went on that mission they all left for when I accidentally fell asleep this afternoon.”

“Oh, I was going to, but I ended up getting sick so I crawled into my room and sat this one out.”

“Oh. Well, do you want some latkes? I always make more than I can eat for myself. That is, if you think your stomach can handle it.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Bucky said, his stomach seeming to have settled from it’s violent churning hours ago. He turned around and got two plates out of the cupboard and two forks from the drawer. As you dished up the steaming food, Bucky got the kettle ready for tea afterwards. He opened the kitchen window in order to let the smell of grease out of the room before making his way to the table where you sat with one plate in front of you and the empty seat across from you had his plate waiting for him. Bucky took a bite of the potato pancakes and instantly moaned. He had never tasted latkes as good as his before, and they weren’t even necessarily his when he made them since he was just following his mothers recipe.

“Gosh, doll. I haven’t tasted latkes this good in a long time, where did you learn to make them?” Bucky asked between bites genuinely curious.

“Oh, just an old friend. He usually did the cooking, but I guess I was able to pick this up. Helps that it’s super easy.” You said while looking down at your plate. Bucky nodded his head. You both ate in companionable silence until Bucky stood and grabbed both empty plates heading to the sink and turning on the kettle. You followed him waiting beside him to dry the dishes. Bucky had finished washing the pan and was handing it to you when a breeze through the window blew across your skin. All Bucky could smell was lilacs, just like in his dream.

_The taste of peppermint was on his tongue as it ran across lips Bucky could only compare to rose petals. The scent of lilacs clung to her skin, she had told him before it was an oil she used instead of using perfume, Bucky loved it. The noises he could pull from her body spurring him on. She could get drunk off his kiss and it drove him wild. He loved how absolutely wrecked she could be by him just ravaging her with his mouth as if they were teenagers. She cards her fingers through his hair, tugging it at the roots in the back that causes Bucky to release the most delicious growl that sends pleasure straight to her core. Bucky opens his eyes to be met with yours. He could get lost in your eyes and be perfectly content doing so. Bucky latches his mouth to the spot just below your ear that makes your toes curl, sucking a mark there. When he pulls away his lips are only centimeters away from your ear, his breath ghosting the shell of it._

_“Love you so much, Y/N. Never want this to end.”_

_“I love you too, Bucky. Love the way you touch me, hold me, the way you love me.” You gasp out in an airy breath, pulling away to look him in the eyes before resting your forehead on his. Just enjoying his closeness. Tears gathered in your eyes. You were terrified of losing him, he could see it. Bucky kissed away your tears._

_“Voi fi mereu cu tine, păpușă. Mă pot lua de aici, dar nu-mi pot lua inima de lângă tine.” (I will always be with you, doll. They can take me away, but they can never take my heart away from you.)_

Bucky’s head spun as he was pulled out of the memory. His stomach was twisting more violently than it had been the day before. Memories of him and the woman, you, flooded in and out of his mind. Hushed claims of love under the moonlight, the smell of an old bookstore, the crackling sound of a fire, the taste of peppermint, and the smell of sandalwood and lilacs. Everything hit him all at once, the most vivid memory being the one where his lips unite with yours, over and over again.

“Сирень” (Lilacs) you heard Bucky whisper.

“I, what?” You said in confusion.

“Ich erinnere mich, dass ich dich liebte...” (I remember loving you…) Bucky’s voice began to raise, his eyes still unfocused as if he weren’t seeing what was in front of him. Before you knew it, you were no longer crouched in front of Bucky where he had slid down to the floor. You were on your butt and Bucky was pacing in front of you yelling in languages you didn’t understand, but you could tell it was more than one from what Bucky had tried to teach you at one point.

“Это был ты все это время? Я поцеловала тебя? Почему я не помню, что это был ты до сих пор?” (It was you this whole time? I kissed you? Why couldn't I remember it was you until now?) Bucky yelled.

“James!” Bucky flinched at the use of his name and it seemed to bring him out of his trance. “Don’t yell at me in languages I don’t understand.”

“I-I remember kissing you, why do I remember kissing you?” Bucky spoke softly, his voice small and the broken look in his eyes made your stomach twist unpleasantly. “Did the others- did they know?” Bucky added, his mind spiraling.

“No, no one knew. That was one of the things you warned me against when we were together. I nearly told Steve, but I just, I couldn’t. I didn’t even know if he would believe me if I did, or if they would take you away from me, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again. I’d rather have you and you not know me, than not have you at all.” You said, drawing your knees to your chest. You had come to accept the fact that you would probably never have your Bucky back.

“But, when I met you, you smelled like lavender.” The puzzled look on his face caused you to chuckle. This is the man that looked at you more times than you could count, knew you better both times than you knew yourself, and the oils you used as perfumes is what had kept him from connecting the dots? You broke out into laughter and the ludicrousness of it all became apparent to you. You didn’t stop laughing until you felt Bucky’s finger hook gently beneath your chin. His blue eyes calming your mind.

“I- every time I used it I thought of you, it became too painful. Then I read somewhere that lavender is supposed to be stress relieving, I never switched back when you came here because I figured maybe it would help you. You seemed so tense and skittish when you came here, and you seemed to relax around me that I thought maybe it really did work.” This time it was Bucky’s turn to let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Doll, I relaxed around you because of who you are. You just have that effect on me.”

“Oh.” You said, your eyes widening. Bucky’s eyes looked from yours to your lips and back again before leaning in just a tad.

“Can I kiss you, doll?” Bucky rasped in a husky voice. Yours fists found purchase on his t-shirt and you tugged him towards you. The second your lips met you both let out a satisfying groan. Your lips tasted better than they had in any dream. This time they were real.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya girl is sick and needy so leave me lots of love y’all! Also, if everybody wants it, I may be inclined to make a part 2 eventually.


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